Imprecise
by M. Rhae
Summary: But was that love? What did it really mean to be in love with another person? Mitsuru didn't know, and that troubled her. But she tucked it away and sealed it inside for another time. Mitsuru/Akihiko and Mitsuru/OC (untraditional suitor). A story about Mitsuru teetering around her feelings for both Akihiko and for someone else.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona series.**

 **A/N:** Hey everyone! I started this story a couple years ago and had it posted here, but I decided to take it down and start over. It wasn't quite right the way that it was, so I'm trying to salvage it the best I can while also adding in some new plot elements.

Mitsuru has always fascinated me when playing the game, and I think it'd be interesting to see her meet another person with whom she could reasonably get along and who also is connected to her father's business. Not exactly sure where this is going yet, but please stick with it and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, and Happy New Year!

* * *

 **Imprecise**

 **o1.**

It was becoming typical for him to be late. Of all things in the world, tardiness was a quality that Mitsuru absolutely loathed. Tapping her foot impatiently on the cool, uneven ground of Iwatodai Station, she thought about all of her classmates and club members who were usually late. She didn't care much for them. Quite frankly, it seemed that the late-comers would never amount to anything relatively important. How could they, if they never arrived on time? It may seem like a rather trivial matter, but at least to Mitsuru, one's punctuality says a lot about their character. And at the moment, it spoke negatively to Akihiko's.

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, mais… Mitsuru? Mitsuru Kirijo?"

Looking up, Mitsuru's eyes met the blue gaze of a tall, broad-shouldered blond wearing an onyx suit with a white leather bag draped casually over his shoulder. He grinned at her, his teeth more-or-less white while just a little bit crooked, and Mitsuru noticed a small French flag pinned to the hem of his bag.

"Parlez-vous français?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Ou, êtes -vous français?"

"Oui," he said, his smile widening. "Je suis français. Je viens d'Angers, une petite ville près de la mer, mais maintenant j'habite à Paris. " Mitsuru didn't know any Frenchmen. How did this man know her, then? And how did he know that she spoke French?

"Je m'appelle Victor," he said, as if reading her mind, "et mon cousin est Bebe, qui va à Gekkokhaun avec vous. Vous le connaissez, oui?"

"I do know him," she answered in Japanese, starting to feel frustrated now, "but how do _you_ know _me_?"

She didn't really care at this point. She'd had enough experiences of being hit on, if this was what was happening. These things always resulted in utter pain and misery for her pursuer, but Victor was foreign and a relative of one of her mentees in the French club. Mitsuru thus felt obligated to be gentler, but she still didn't care to engage in a real conversation with him. She really wished Akihiko would arrive.

At this he smiled again, moving to sit beside her on the bench. His leg brushed the end of Mitsuru's skirt as he did so, causing her to edge away. She didn't like people touching her, even if accidentally.

"Everyone knows who you are, Mitsuru." His Japanese was a bit rough now that she heard him say more than just her name, but she could understand him well enough. "Also, we met in the past as well. Remember that ball your family held last summer? My father and I attended since your company and ours are loosely affiliated. Ours is in Kyoto, and my father is an acquaintance of your father."

"Is that so?" Of course he had a connection to her father; _of course_ now she couldn't afford to be rude.

"Yes. It is a small world, isn't it?" He laughed, and it was one of those light, infectious laughs that would encourage most people to start laughing themselves. It was warm, deep, and inviting, and his eyes crinkled and shone.

But Mitsuru was not most people. She simply watched him laugh and waited for him to finish. "I thought you looked familiar… Have you been coming to Kirijo Group meetings lately?" The more she looked at him, the more she did seem to recognize him. His hair was a very light shade of blond and his eyes were very blue, which were traits one didn't see every day in Japan. He was also rather stout and thickset. Not fat, but large, which again was a bit atypical for Asians. He actually did resemble Bebe quite a bit.

"Yes, I have been. My father is actually in Morocco right now, so he wants me to take over his participation here. My brother is in one of our headquarters in Quebec, and my mother is home in France."

"You have that many extensions?" Mitsuru asked, feeling impressed in spite of herself. She knew that the francophone culture was rather large and expansive, but she didn't expect such ties to stretch into Japan as well. The Kirijo Group was primarily a Japanese company, but Mitsuru knew that they had connections elsewhere. She also knew how tedious up-keeping everything was, and she wondered how Victor, who seemed rather laid-back and low-key, was able to handle such pressures.

"La francophonie has a lot of advantages, as I am sure you know. It is a hard thing to do, but we do it, and we do it well, I'd say."

"That's fascinating," she mused, making a mental note to ask her father the details on Victor's company. "How many total operations do you hav –"

"Hey, Mitsuru." With a flash of silver, Akihiko arrived, panting slightly. "Sorry I'm late. I had to talk to the team after practice, and it turned into a bit of a – Oh, hello. Who's this?"

He turned to look at Victor, who was now staring over at him. The Frenchman soon rose to shake his hand firmly. "I am Victor, a friend to you both. My family does business in this area, and I am also a relative of Bebe." Mitsuru watched as Akihiko stared blankly at him, probably trying to figure out who Bebe was. Mitsuru knew him through her connections with the French Club, but she knew Akihiko had the cultural diversity of a pea. "I saw Mitsuru and thought I would say hello. And now, I think I should be saying goodbye."

He shook Akihiko's hand once more and then took Mitsuru's, kissing the top with a slight brush of his lips. He looked into her eyes as he did so, and Mitsuru felt a rush of annoyance.

"Au revoir, mademoiselle. I hope to be seeing you again soon "

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So, who was that earlier?" Mitsuru and Akihiko were watching TV on the couch in Mitsuru's room. She didn't care much for television and the cheap media it represented, but she tolerated it for Akihiko's sake. They were watching some American car movie – the Fast and Furious something? Akihiko was drawn to the muscle cars while Mitsuru distantly appreciated the meager plot points. They were all some sort of team racing together, much like how S.E.E.S fought shadows together. She didn't really understand why cars were such a big deal to the characters, but she could respect their teamwork. She could _relate_ to it in a way.

"Victor?" Mitsuru asked, still focusing on the big muscled-man's monologue.

"Was that his name?" For some reason, Akihiko's voice was a little sharp. Mitsuru tore her gaze away from the television to look at him. His eyes were glued to the screen and his left hand was holding the popcorn bowl. They were sitting close together (though not touching), and there was a strange sort of tension in the air.

"Yes. As he told you, he's apparently related to Bebe and is also a business affiliate of my father's company."

"Oh." He still didn't look away from the screen, but Mitsuru could sense him relax a little, though he still looked tense.

It was so very strange between them. Very imprecise. Akihiko was a friend – a _good_ friend. Mitsuru's best friend, actually. He knew what food she liked, he knew her every combat move, he knew her every weakness, and he knew her every strength. She enjoyed his company and felt sad when deprived of it for too long, but with all of this, there was something more teetering at the surface.

The truth was that Akihiko was probably in love with her. Mitsuru just had a feeling. It was apparent in the way he looked at her when she got dressed up, the way he reacted when she sustained a hit in battle, the way he grinned when their bodies would naturally brush when walking or sitting – it wasn't hard to figure out.

What _was_ hard to figure out, though, was how Mitsuru felt. Again, she truly enjoyed his company. More so than anyone else in the dorm. She was happy when she was with him and worried about him when he went into battle, but was that love? What did it really mean to be in love with another person?

Mitsuru didn't know, and that troubled her. But she tucked it away and sealed it inside for another time. She didn't want to think about that just now as the end credits began playing on the screen. "So… do you want to watch the next installment?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Mademoiselle! 'Allo!"

Turning from her perch by the window, Mitsuru turned to see Victor entering the coffee shop, smiling as he walked over to her. He'd been in town for a while now, and they'd been running into each fairly often. Perhaps a bit _too_ often. Today he wore a white silk shirt tucked into sleek black pants darned with a gray scarf, his foreignness thus completely evident. The fact made her amused enough to smile, but she held it back.

"Hello, Victor," she said, a little surprised as he pulled up a chair to sit by her. "How are you?"

"Oh well, very well. Just came here to do a bit of reading. Is it fine if I join you?"

Mitsuru knew that there really wasn't any reason to object, so she let him, trying to ignore him as she finished crunching the numbers for the Student Counsel's budget. The treasurer had some sort of controversy surrounding her, so it was just easier if Mitsuru did it. Victor was quiet enough, letting out a light laugh from time to time as he read his book, so he didn't really bother her. She didn't know why he asked to join her when they both clearly had their own agendas to attend to, but it wasn't her problem.

When she finally finished, she put her papers back into their folders and then stood up, pausing to stare at Victor.

He too looked up, meeting her eyes and smiling. "Is that it, then? You are finished?"

"Yes," said Mitsuru, not sure where he was going with this. "Thank you for your company, but I have to go."

"But, you are not finished with your coffee." He tapped the top of her half-filled cup. "Won't you stay and finish it?"

"No, that's fine," she said absently, putting the last folder into her bag. It tasted awful anyway. She didn't know why she bought it or what she had expected from it.

"Ah, well, do you think you could still stay for just a little while longer?" She looked up from her bag to stare at him. He was still smiling. It seemed that all he ever did was smile. "I thought I could tell you more about my father's business. Would you like to chat with me about that?"

He had her there. She _was_ extremely interested in how they managed all of their various headquarters. Father admitted he didn't know much about them except for the fact that their world image was renown and highly-respected, much like their own, so she _would_ like to stay and hear about it. It would be in the firm's best interest.

But she was supposed to meet Akihiko back at the dorms for dinner…

"I suppose I can talk for a little while." She sat down across from him, pulling out her cellphone. She couldn't get a signal; she'd have to just tell Akihiko later. "So, how many branches do you have again? And in how many countries?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She was late. Over an hour late.

It wasn't like Mitsuru to be late. She sure chided him enough for his own untimeliness, too. But it was after seven, she wasn't here, Akihiko was hungry, and his home cooked meal didn't feel so special anymore. Sighing, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, wondering where she was, what she was doing, and why he wasn't important enough to know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona series.**

 **A/N:** Here is chapter two! Thanks for reading.

* * *

 **Imprecise**

 **o2.**

"What do you want to watch tonight, Mitsuru?" They were back in her room again, though this time laying on the bed. Akhiko was on one end and Mitsuru was on the other. This was a new thing for Mitsuru. She'd let Akihiko into her room before, of course, and they'd hung out plenty of times, but never on her _bed_. It felt slightly too intimate, even though they were feet apart. She didn't know why, but she almost felt _nervous._

"It doesn't matter to me."

"Hmm… Maybe a… chick flick?"

"A chick flick?" Akihiko's face blushed a little as Mitsuru repeated the word. Why was he blushing, she wondered? Because a chick flick normally entailed a romance of sorts?

Was he embarrassed to watch a romance movie with her?

"That's fine. What do you have?"

Turning away from her, Akihiko dug into his bag of movies to pull out a few, laying them out on the bed for Mitsuru to inspect. "You choose. I heard that these are some good ones."

They all looked awful, to be honest, but Mitsuru tapped the cover of a movie called "The Notebook." It sounded somewhat studious. How bad could it be?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was bad. _Painfully,_ dreadfully so. This was a romance movie about two people of two classes fighting to be together. There was kissing and crying and emotional monologues, and Mitsuru couldn't even look at Akihiko. _Why did she feel so awkward?_

What were they doing, sitting next to each other on Mitsuru's bed watching a sappy romance like this? Was it some kind of _sign_ , some kind of clue? Akihiko looked just as uncomfortable as Mitsuru felt. He was sitting stiffly by her side with his fists clenched on her comforter, staring straight ahead at the 72-inch screen.

How strange, the feelings running through Mitsuru. A wild, careless part of her wanted to reach out and touch his hand, to _hold_ it. What would that feel like? The people in the movie did it often enough; people at school did it all the time. Mitsuru had never held anyone's hand before, and, perhaps it was just the movie, but she really, really wanted to.

"I have to, uh, go to the bathroom." Akihiko got off the bed and bolted to the door. Mitsuru had a private bathroom in her room, but everyone else had to use the floor bathrooms. She distantly heard footsteps on stairs, telling her that Akihiko had gone down to use the boys' bathroom.

"Oh dear," Mitsuru said aloud, leaning back on her bed. The main characters were currently kissing. "I suppose hormones are more of a nuisance than I had originally anticipated."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Ah! This is so _nice_."

Looking up from her tea, Mitsuru saw Victor bite into his burger and practically devour the entire thing in one bite, some sauce dribbling down his chin. She couldn't help but laugh.

"This is the best field trip our club has ever taken!" Bebe was also very taken with the Wilduck burger since it was his first time there. The other members of the French Club watched politely. This was the club's third club outing of the new school year, and since there was nothing truly French about Iwatodai, fast food would have to suffice, much to Mitsuru's dismay. She merely sipped some weak tea.

"In France, they would never serve a burger with the same kinds of flavor," Mitsuru started to explain, trying to bring the focus back to French-related matters.

"Oui, c'est correct," Victor affirmed, nodding. "This combination is like… Is like nothing I have ever had before. It is spicy and sweet and salty and tangy!"

"What are burgers like in France, then?"

"Well, they are… More American, I suppose." Victor and the questioning sophomore chuckled. "Have any of you ever been to America?"

"I have!" A blonde junior exclaimed. "I went there for a week to visit my cousin. He studies at Harvard."

"Wow, that is a great school," said Victor. "I visited it once during a business trip to Boston."

"You had business in Boston?"

"Yes. One of our American affiliates is located there. And it's not too far from one of our centers in Montreal."

 _"Ohh,_ Montreal!"

"What's Montreal like?"

"I've heard the rest of Quebec hates it because of all the anglophones."

"Yeah, I heard France hates it, too."

"What's the accent like? Can you understand it?"

"Can you mimic it for us?"

"Yeah! Let's try and sound Quebecois!"

The remaining conversation consisted of strongly nasal vowels, Americanized-French, and a rough rendition of Robert Charlebois's "Je reviendrai a Montreal." Mitsuru actually liked that song. It touched upon some of the environmental and social charms of the city, and hearing it again filled Mitsuru with an impulsive desire to go there. She'd never been to North America.

"This was fun!" They'd finished their meals now and Victor was standing up, his eyes bright. He had become something of an honorary French Club member since he and Bebe were the sole Frenchmen in town, which seemed to please him. "I would like to do this again with you all."

"I wish there was a good French restaurant around here so that we could show you some of our food," Bebe added.

"Well, why can't we just make it ourselves?"

"Really?" The younger members all perked up, looking instinctively to Mitsuru. She wasn't _technically_ the president of the club (it was some senior named Tori Iuni who had never come to a single meeting), but she essentially ran things and coordinated events. This idea was intriguing. None of the members had probably ever had authentic French cuisine, so it'd be a good cultural experience for them.

However, something inside her felt… _weird._ This would mean imposing on both Victor and Bebe to cook and host them, which was far too much of a man who wasn't even a club member (or student!). The entire thing just felt a little odd to Mitsuru, however nice that it was.

"We'll have to see," she finally said, averting Victor's gaze.

"Yes," he chimed in, his voice still bright. "Il faut penser, ouais?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mitsuru was texting. She didn't normally text. Sometimes she'd text a member of S.E.E.S. or someone on the student council, but she never texted people continually over a long period of time, which she was doing right now.

Akihiko sat on one armchair while Mitsuru sat in the other, her book in one hand and her phone in her other. She was smiling at she looked at it. Actually smiling. Mitsuru smiled, of course, but never at her phone. _What's going on? Who is she talking to?_

"Oh," she said after a while, suddenly sitting up and putting her book down. "I almost forgot. I have new battles gloves for you, Akihiko. I'll go grab them from the storage room." She threw her cell phone on top of her book and then headed toward the stairs.

Sighing, Akihiko sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was going on with him? Mitsuru had always held a sweet spot in his heart. Ever since they started talking in middle school, she'd impressed and confused him in every desirable way. They'd began spending more time together since S.E.E.S expanded and they had clearer, more pressing goals, but Akihiko would like to think that something _else_ brought them together, too. But how could he know?

Her phone beeped again. And then again. In spite of himself, Akihiko went over to check it. His heart raced as he moved over to the other armchair and picked up her sleek black cellular.

 _Victor._ She was texting that Victor guy, and… everything was in French! Akihiko didn't speak French, and his English was mediocre at best. He recognized some words ("weekend and table"), but what was it about? Would they be hanging out this weekend? Why were they texting so much? Mitsuru never texted _him_ that much…

Footsteps sounded in the distance, so Akihiko set the phone back in its place and then hurried back to his own armchair, getting his magazine back out and feeling his mind spin more and more.

"Here you are." Smiling again, though this time at _him,_ Mitsuru handed Akihiko a pair of gloves with long swords attached to them. "it's called Bladefist. I think it'll serve you well."

"Thanks." Akihiko took them from her and then set it down on the couch, going back to his magazine. _Did she give_ Victor _gifts like that?_

She lingered by his armchair, but Akihiko ignored her. He'd wait a few minutes before making up some excuse and going up to his room, where he'd probably lay on his bed and recount all of their recent time spent together to try and find clues of her thinking about Victor.

"Akihiko, is everything alright?"

"Yeah." _No._ She could tell that something was wrong, but could she tell that it was because of _her_?

"Are you… Sure?"

"Yes, Mitsuru." His tone was sharper than he had intended it to be, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mitsuru's eyes narrow. She was offended. He had offended her. It wouldn't be long before she'd grow bored and irritated with his presence and then leave the room herself. Then he could be alone there in the lounge until someone else came home.

"I don't know what your issue is," she said after a while, moving to collect her book and her phone, "but you'd best get over it before we go to Tartarus tonight. If you don't get over it, then don't even bother coming."


End file.
